Cupboards, Closets, and Corridors
by Ridley Jack
Summary: Deamus, oneshot, hopefully a bit humourous. Dean and Seamus have an argument, and it affects Seamus deeply. Finally coming to terms, he approaches Dean. Edited.


_I wrote this story years ago but it stays at the fringes of my awareness because of lovely readers who continue to add it to their favourites list. Thank you! Because of this, however, I decided to edit it a bit. I haven't changed the content at all, just tried to fix some of the grammatical blunders without changing the overall feel of the piece._

* * *

Cupboards, Closets, and Corridors

_Ridley Jack_

Dean grimaced, shifting his shoulders. Nope, that knob was still digging in. He arched his hips to get around the dustpan. Seamus moaned into his mouth and he forgot the broom poking his arm, and the bucket his foot was (not so) strategically placed in.

Seamus cried out as he fell against a mop handle and the head flopped down upon his own.

"This just isn't working, Dean," he complained.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," he replied, exasperated as he shifted the mop aside.

"Well, everything happened to you, before," Seamus excused, smiling like nothing was wrong.

"Hn," Dean glared.

"Well it did!" Seamus protested.

"So now that it's _you _who's uncomfortable, you agree that it's time to change? That's a great basis for a relationship," Dean criticized.

Seamus gaped. Dean was getting this worked up over a triviality? He was agreeing now, wasn't he?

"I'm going out of the closet, now," Dean said abruptly.

Seamus' breath caught. No! They promised they'd do it together!

"Cupboard, I mean," he corrected absently, struggling to get free.

The two practically fell out, bringing half the cleaning supplies with them.

"Great job," Seamus' joke fell flat.

Dean looked down briefly, then back up, a strange look in his eyes. He took a visible breath and let it out in a rush along with his words.

"I don't think we should see each other like this for a while."

Seamus was shocked. He thought they were doing rather well. He'd gotten farther with Dean than he ever had with anyone else. Shouldn't that mean something?

"I want more, Sea. Even Harry and Malfoy have more," Dean whispered, not meeting his eyes.

Seamus, unable to make his frantic thoughts form sentences, just stood there, watching Dean.

Dean sighed faintly and met his eyes one last time before slowly turning and taking a slow, measured, deliberate step. Then he took another; a painfully slow, agonizing step. Then another. And another. Seamus watched with dead eyes as Dean ran from the abandoned corridor.

* * *

Seamus didn't return to the common room until all but the most persistent were still up, and even their eyes were drooping.

"Harry, it's about time you got back! I don't care if you love him, tha—oh, Seamus, I'm sorry, I thought you were Harry," Hermione explained, blushing furiously.

Seamus, who thought that all his emotions were numb and dead, like dried tears spilt upon the ground, felt a renewed pang of despair. So that was what Dean was talking about. He thought Harry and Malfoy had something they didn't.

Seamus sighed, "It's alright. 'Night." He trudged up the stairs to the boys' dorm.

Hermione watched him go with worry wrinkling her brow. Seamus seemed so—lifeless. That vitality, that vividness, that air of unable-to-sit-still that made Seamus Seamus, was gone. In its place was this robot-like entity that had no wish for, well, for example, if Hermione had said what she did to the old Seamus, he would have waited up with her to tease Harry mercilessly.

* * *

During the next school week, all of Seamus' teachers pulled him aside after class, always asking the same questions. Seamus normally would have been extremely annoyed with it, or at the very least amused, but just couldn't bring himself to care enough at this point.

"Are you sure you're feeling well? You've never gotten a Transfiguration correct the first time before," McGonnagal said with concern.

"I'm fine, Professor," he mumbled.

"Why, Seamus," Flitwick squeaked, "Today was great! You levitated the feather without blowing it up! Are you alright?" he asked with kind apprehension.

"Yes, Professor," he mumbled, and shuffled off to his next class.

Seamus, with nothing to distract him from class, used those very lessons that he bumbled happily through before to distract him from his thoughts. When required to move or write, his actions were done listlessly and without his usual animation.

"Mr. Finnegan. Your potion, if you please," Snape snapped snidely after it was apparent he wasn't going to approach anytime soon.

Seamus slowly got to his feet, bottled his correctly brewed potion and made his way through the empty cauldrons to Snape's desk.

"Here," he placed the vial on the desk with the others.

Snape picked it up and fingered it while he waited for the fleeting look of dread that inevitably crossed each student's face, even the famed Harry Potter's. He uncorked the vial, peering intently into Finnegan's face. Where was the look? He smelt the potion and was astonished to discover that it was, indeed, brewed properly.

"This is the first time his has happened, correct?" Snape asked, careful not to let his emotions show.

"Hn," Seamus agreed.

Snape peered at him once more. This would ruin his character, but… "If he makes you feel like that, boy, do something about it. Don't let opportunity pass you by. You're dismissed," he barked at Finnegan's dumbfounded look. He grimaced as the door clicked shut. Why did he do that again?

Lupin, the insufferable git that he was, barged unannounced into his classroom, smiling as he made his way to his desk. Snape's lips unconsciously curved into a responding smile. Now he remembered why. Amazing that he forgot, really…

* * *

Seamus trudged back to the common room Friday after class. As he was walking by a shadowed alcove, he felt eyes on his back. Shrugging, he continued on.

"Finnegan!" a quiet voice called hesitantly. "Seamus!"

"Shh! No, what are you doing?" another hissed.

"Shh! I know what I'm doing!" the first voice claimed.

"No, you don't!" the other objected.

"Yes, I do! Now, shut up, or he'll ignore us!"

"Imagine that," the second voice muttered.

There was a rustling noise, like clothes being rearranged, and out of the shadows popped Harry and Malfoy.

"Seamus, you feeling alright?" Harry asked tentatively.

Harry still didn't know how to cope with emotions but since getting together with Malfoy, even Seamus had to admit that he was more open.

"Fine," Seamus repeated for what felt like the millionth time that week.

"Are you sure?" Malfoy asked, giving Seamus the second major shock of the week, aside from that interesting comment from Snape. "Harry was wondering," he amended hastily, seeing their looks of surprise.

"Of course," Harry agreed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Seamus confirmed. "Except I get peeved when people keep asking me the same questions over and over again!" he flared, showing some of his old spirit. "Just, leave me alone for a bit, ok?" he begged and ran off before they could answer.

* * *

Sunday rolled around and brought with it a horrible thunderstorm. Seamus, stuck inside the castle, wandered aimlessly.

As he was about to turn yet another corner, he heard voices. Ducking into a cupboard, he wondered what he was doing.

"Please! You guys are best frie—" Hermione started.

"We haven't talked for a week," Dean cut her off coldly, forlornly.

"But…" Hermione trailed off. A startling thought occurred to her. Dean and Seamus had been acting out-of-sorts for a week and Dean said they hadn't been talking for a week… It was almost impossible to believe that they were fighting, but the evidence was right in front of her.

"Did you guys have a fight?" she couldn't resist asking, albeit kindly, trying to confirm her suspicions.

"It's none of your business," Dean told her, rather more harshly than he'd intended. "Oh, jeez, Hermione, I'm sorry. I thought I could handle not seeing him at all, but I'd rather have what we had before than this," he despaired.

"I wouldn't," Seamus protested quietly. He was shocked. When did he step out of the cupboard? And he had no idea that Dean felt this way…

The object of his thoughts gasped. Hermione looked between the two, her confused look slowly clearing.

"I'll just be… er, I have to go," she rushed off.

"What?" Dean whispered, Hermione's absence having gone completely unheeded.

"I wouldn't. You said before that you wanted what Harry and Malfoy have. I always thought we did."

"But…they—love…" Dean trailed off, puzzled.

"I've always loved you," he admitted quietly.

Dean gaped. "But…the cupboard…"

Seamus flinched. "A definite lack of tact."

Dean snorted. Seamus was famed for his "lack of tact" as he so eloquently put it. He smiled fondly. Even when filled with conflicting emotions, Seamus could still make him laugh. He guessed that was why he loved him.

Dean was knocked off his feet by the comforting and familiar weight of Seamus. He looked up into Seamus' grinning face. Something inside him released. Seamus was back.

"You love me?" Seamus asked, Irish accent standing out thickly.

Dean flushed as he realized that he must have said his thoughts out loud. Too late to take them back now. Besides, why would he want too? Seamus already told him he loved him.

"Almost more than football," Dean joked.

Seamus glared playfully and sealed the bargain with a kiss. He broke apart to whisper coarsely that he was sorry for the cupboard.

"I don't care," Dean's words were almost incomprehensible against Seamus' lips.

Their lips met once again and for some reason, for although they'd shared kisses and many other pleasant experiences, this kiss was different. Special. Maybe it was because they both knew that the other returned their feelings, but either way, it wasn't something either of them were likely to forget.

Seamus' tongue slipped in between Dean's lips and caressed his tongue, engaging it with his own. Hands roamed; stroking backs and tangling in short, black hair or longer, reddish hair.

"Eh-hem," someone cleared their throat loudly. "Eh-hem," the person repeated.

"Just leave it, Herm," Ron whispered in what he probably thought was a quiet voice.

"Ron, shh!" Hermione hushed.

The kissing two reluctantly broke apart. Looking over, they spotted a smugly grinning Hermione and a blushing Ron. Red was really not his colour.

_What?_ the looks on Seamus and Dean's faces seemed to say.

Hermione started to blush. "Well, when you guys didn't come back, I thought…" she left her sentence unfinished. "Congratulations!" she blurted instead and fled, trailing Ron.

Seamus laughed, a foreign sound in the last week.

"I missed you," Dean whispered and in a rare show of pure affection, snuggled up to Seamus.

Seamus was dazed. They'd never actually _cuddled_ before. He tentatively hugged back. Hmm… he could get used to this. Smiling softly, he shifted so he was more beside Dean than on him and settled down till they were ready to move back to the common room.

In the middle of the corridor.


End file.
